Happier
by FlutieCutie
Summary: ...and I've never been happier to see someone in my life. Four/Tris


_**Well, hello. Let me start by saying that this is my first attempt at writing for the Divergent fandom. Coincidentally, it is my first real attempt at writing first-person point of view. I've always had a problem using "I, my, and me" so much, but I'm sure that's a deep-seeded mind thing stemming from childhood or something, ha ha. Hopefully none of you find this too repulsive. Thanks for your time. =)**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with Divergent. That's all Veronica Roth, y'all.**_

-::-

Tobias

Looking back at my life, I realize I probably looked pretty strange to those around me. Some people called me a loner but that wasn't true. I had my core circle of friends who were more like family and whom I trusted with my life. I just wasn't a social butterfly, even throughout my career in Chicago's city government, and never saw the need to be. There were, of course, the occasional work parties and functions that I'd been required to attend, and I made the necessary small talk, but I always hated those things. Too many people who thought that because they knew my face and name, it meant they knew _me_ and somehow had a right to pry into my personal life.

"_Oh, Representative Eaton, we were hoping to see you here this evening! It's been awhile, hasn't it?"_

"_You're so young and handsome, Tobias. Which one of these lovely ladies is your date tonight?"_

Or my personal favorite, _"When are you going to find yourself a nice young woman? You might want to think about settling down and starting a family."_

They didn't know the first thing about what I _wanted_. They never would. After one too many intruding conversations with near-strangers about my love life, I decided to just let them think they were telling me something I had never heard or thought of before. "Yeah, maybe," I'd say, "I'll have to think it over."

God forbid I ever ask Christina to go with me to one of these things just so I'd have someone to actually talk to. It was like throwing a bleeding fish into a shark tank. They would crowd around with question after question, every one with their own opinion or agenda. "Oh _my_, Tobias, who is this? Are you together? How did you meet? Tell us _everything_!"

It was a miracle I never physically harmed anyone.

In reality, though, I never even entertained the thought of loving anybody else. I've always believed that everybody has a soulmate somewhere. Whether they ever found them or not, there was someone out there for everyone. Their _one_.

I'd already found my one.

Anything else would have just been pretending and that wasn't fair to anybody. My friends never bothered me about it, but most people didn't understand. They insisted that I was stuck in the past and that it was time to move on. "You need to live, Tobias."

I did live. I lived for myself. I lived for _her_.

Some said I was in extreme denial. Others said I was slightly crazy. Either way, almost everyone said it was unhealthy. What none of them could understand was that I was really just carrying on any way I could. I was doing whatever I had to do to get up and get through the day. There was a weight on my shoulders that never really went away. If only they had been there when Christina had followed me and barely managed to talk me out of taking that memory serum. Or for all the nights I woke up either screaming or crying, or both, from another nightmare that was worse than any fear simulation. Then they'd know how far I'd really come. Baby steps; my entire life was a series of baby steps.

No one understood I wanted Tris, that I had only ever wanted Tris. Through all the good moments, through all the bad, all the laughs, the smiles, the stolen touches and kisses. Even all the secrets, the lies, the fights; we had managed to work through all of them and come out better for it on the other side. We would have made it, if only we'd had the chance. People don't believe you meet the love of your life when you're a teenager but I knew better.

I went through twenty-five years living without Tris Prior. Twenty-five years of being told how I was supposed to be doing this or doing that, ignoring most of it along the way. I knew I was as okay as I could be and so did my friends, so that was all that mattered to me. Some days were more difficult than others, like her birthday, what would have been our anniversary, or the day she...left. I'd be lying if I said I'd never wanted to just stop going, but I knew she'd knock me out for even thinking it.

So maybe that's why I wasn't as upset as Zeke or Christina or Cara when my doctor told me the reason I'd been so short of breath lately was because I had a pretty advanced case of some complex lung disease. Caleb and Matthew knew more about the thing than I ever would. Something about too much time spent onsite overseeing city work projects in older parts of the city. To be honest, I didn't really pay all that much attention, which annoyed my friends to no end. I don't see why, though; once the doctor told me there was nothing they could do but "manage my pain," I didn't see the point. I didn't care to know the specifics of the process of my death. I would be true to my old Dauntless self and just roll with the punches.

About a week after my diagnosis, I stopped taking the pain meds. Cara said I was crazy. Maybe I was, but I felt a little closer to Tris that way. She had passed through _death serum_, kept going, and then that bastard shot her. He shot her and she had to lie there on the floor, alone and in pain, until she was gone. It haunted me all these years that I hadn't been there for her. So if Tris had to hurt, so would I.

I was surprised, along with everyone else, how quickly my condition deteriorated. The doctors had estimated I'd have maybe half a year; I didn't even get a month. Three weeks after being diagnosed they put me in the hospital. I was trapped there for a week before I practically begged Christina and Cara to get me out of there. I wanted to go home. I finally managed to convince them with the sentiment that if I was going to die, I'd rather do it in my own bed. Couldn't I at least have that? They couldn't say no after that.

So here I am back in my apartment, staring at my bedroom ceiling as the sun starts to peek through the thin curtains. Cara and Christina have restricted me to my bed and they take turns staying in the guest room, but it's miles better than that hospital. That damn hospital with its white tiled hallways that remind me too much of the Bureau and everything that happened there. But before I can brood for too long, Christina is poking her head through my door, a ridiculously perky smile on her face.

"Morning, Four," she chirps, "I'm making breakfast. Eggs or potatoes?"

It takes more effort than it should to turn my head towards her. It's even harder to breathe today that it has been lately, but I do my best to answer in a strong voice. "Surprise me."

She seems to sense something isn't right, but she manages a smile, probably for my sake, and nods. "You got it."

As she's turning to walk back to the kitchen, I suddenly feel the need to call out to her again. "Christina," I puff and she stops mid-stride to face me, "Thank you...for everything. Really."

I hope she realizes that I don't just mean for breakfast or even for taking care of me these past few weeks. I hope she knows I'm thanking her for twenty-five years of unwavering support, friendship, and understanding. When she steps over to me and bends down to give me a bone-crushing hug, I know she does. "Thank you, Four," she whispers and I can practically hear the tears forming in her eyes, "Life's really gonna suck without you in it, you know that?"

I can't find my voice, or my breath, so I tighten my arms around her instead. Something tells me this is it; I'm leaving soon, I can feel it. We finally let go of each other, but instead of leaving, Christina settles down in the armchair beside the bed. She doesn't want me to be alone for this and I'm grateful for it; it would be a lie to say I wasn't afraid. But as my eyes get heavier and it's nearly impossible to breathe, I see someone else enter the room. Every trace of pain and fear completely disappears as she gently lowers herself onto the bed beside me, smiling as she takes my hand, interlacing our fingers.

"Tobias," she whispers, and I have never been happier to see someone in my life.

"Tris."

-::-


End file.
